Wait

Go away, please go away;
I can't scream with you here next to me.
Go away, just go away;
I can't cry I don't want you to see.

Can't you see that I don't want to talk?
Is your head as hard as a rock?
Your kindness makes the pain so much worse;
what you're saying is sweet, but it feels too rehearsed.
It's like you don't even know who I am.

I can't explain
what it is that makes me feel this way.
But I'll try, to explain
why I feel like this day after day.

It isn't one single event,
my heart isn't broken or bent.
I always fall for nice guys so it's hard not to cry
when I'm not what they're looking for.
So I wait, and I wait and hope for twists of fate,
for a prince to come knock on my door.

But I'm tired of waiting and waiting for you.
I'm tired of waiting, not knowing for whom.
I'm sick of these tears that ceaselessly fall.
I feel like I'm hitting my head against a wall.

Go ahead, yes go ahead.
Say, "Just give it a little more time."
Go ahead, I know you're right,
and I'll give it a little more time.

Peace

Peace is...

a warm safe bed,

a grinning dog,

a pat on the head,

an abandoned log,

your favorite book by the fireplace,

a hearty laugh from a

familiar face.

Loneliness

Lonliness is...

an empty house,

a crowded room,

an unlit candle,

an open book,

an unreturned smile,

a haunting stare,

a flickering screen,

a silent scream.

Love Me Too

Hey there, it’s your friend here,
wishing you could open up your eyes and see me.
See me, and understand that
I’m just standing here wanting you to love me too

I know that that can’t happen
At least not quite yet so
I’ll just stand here and hope someday
You will realize you love me too

Until that wish comes true
And even if it never does
I want to just be your friend
Don’t want to screw things up with these words...

I like you even as friends
I’m just lonely here and wishing for more
I want someone, someone somewhere
To look at me and suddenly know that

I’m all that he’s looking for
And I guess I hoped that someone’d be you
But don’t worry about me
You’re not the first friend that’s made me confused

And for now I’ll just stand here
Content to be your friend
and secretly hoping
you'll love me too.

The Match

I wrote a screen-play the other day.
You weren't the male lead,
I wasn't the female lead,
but it was about us.

We didn't say the things we'd say;
we didn't do the things we'd do.
The story was beautiful,
and it was mostly about us.

We were friends who both hoped for more,
and we thought we were alone in that hope,
but the audience new something different.
It was kind of about us.

I sent you a letter with a match inside;
if it scared you it could burn and be forgotten,
but if it thrilled you you could keep the match.
I thought I did it for you.

In the script you kept the match,
you passed it back when you proposed,
and we kept it on the mantle until we died,
but it was not about us.

A story doesn't work without a twist, and my metaphors weren't quite clear.
What was the match?
What was the letter?
Who was the story about?